


Through the (House of Mirrors) Looking Glass and Into Underland-Part I

by RileyLux



Category: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Crazy Mad Hatter | Jefferson, F/M, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24588901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RileyLux/pseuds/RileyLux
Summary: At a carnival, Alice is dragged through a Fun House mirror into Wonderland (Underland) where she is found by the Mad Hatter.
Kudos: 2





	Through the (House of Mirrors) Looking Glass and Into Underland-Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Abduction, Abuse, Captivity, Violence

The fallen leaves crackle beneath the blonde's wine-hued Doc Martens, the tattered black fishnet stockings doing little to offer warmth on this winter's eve as Alice races through the cemetery, weaving between tombstones and statues of Catholic saints, their names are long forgotten despite years of parochial schooling. She shrieks when thick fingers grasp hold of the violet leather of her bomber jacket but she manages to wiggle free, pivoting to kick her friend's thighs before diverting to the gravel path. At the cemetery's wrought-iron gated entrance, Alice whirls around to face her defeated opponents, two childhood friends, crimson-stained lips curling into a smirk as cobalt eyes thickly lined with Kohl shine brightly, the ecstasy rolling through her system. 

"Every year we play this game and every year you two dumbasses lose. Really think it's time to stop," she laughs, the young woman's hand vanishing into her jacket pocket to retrieve a silver cigarette case, one etched with a rose and discovered at an antique store, free. With the slightest pressure, the case opens, Alice balancing a cigarette between her lips before extending the case to her friends, the boys identical twins. 

"Tobacco or weed, sweet cheeks, which is it?" Thomas asks, the brunet's light eyes bearing the same glassiness as her gaze. 

"Tobacco, asshole," she returns before snapping the case shut against his fingers and slipping it into her pocket once more. 

"Fuck, the anger management classes at the hospital didn't do jack shit for you, babe," Taylor comments, the male's manner softer than his brother's, before draping his arm around Alice's slender shoulders and tugging her against his side. "So this like a weekend pass because you didn't bite anybody?" Taylor asks quietly, his eyes dropping from his twin, who balances on a tombstone, to Alice, who simply nods. 

Alice never truly recovered from her parents' death or the fact she was held hostage by her seatbelt in the overturned van for twelve hours, her five-year-old strength no match for the safety design. Dropped into a children's home, she encountered the twins, the trio's bond quickly cementing as they navigated the existence of being unwanted children. Thomas hops from the tombstone to circle the duo and flanks Alice's opposite side, a common stance, the boys fiercely protective of the girl. 

"Time for some carnival fun, sweet cheeks!" Thomas yells to the inky sky before his lips curl into a crooked smile and his arm slips around Alice's small waist, his head dipping to whisper, "We got you, babe, always."

The inky sky, clouds veiling the full moon, is the canvas against which the carnival's Ferris Wheel is set, the chorus of cheers, many of which are fueled by the sugar rush of cotton candy, spilling from the straw-littered field that marks the festival's space. The cacophony of voices and the peal of carnival games rushes over Alice, the blonde's body tensing as she, flanked by the twins, she enters the ticket line to gain entry into the fun. 

"Holy shit, they have a fuckin' House of Mirrors!" Taylor yells, elbowing Alice, the gesture rough in his excitement and knocking the slender blonde against his brother. Alice pivots to smack the young man, the sharp angle of his elbow striking a rib bruised by an orderly when she refused to attend group therapy, her hand landing a harsh blow against his cheek. 

"Alice! What the fuck?!" Taylor howls, the ring her middle finger bears heavy and lacerating his cheek, his hand soothing the injury, fingertips returning stained red. Anger rushes through the blonde but the fury directs not at Taylor but at Alice herself, the girl unable to voice the horrors of what happens within the asylum walls nor the reason her pale skin is painted in hues of violet and blue beneath her clothing. A mumbled apology falls from her tongue before she rushes away, ignoring the yell of the ticket master as she plunges into the crowd, dodging anyone in her path, the House of Mirrors her target.  
━  
The day began as every day did: Hatter walking the rows of his tea shop, the belt of the black velvet robe dragging behind him as a finger tapped each canister dwindling in its holdings of loose tea leaves. He meant to bypass the carved oak door with the frame of knotted branches but paused. The troublesome part of ignoring one's calling is the annoying ache of failure. 

"Not today, chap, not today. Perhaps tomorrow we shall work", the male mumbled to the silent urging of the 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. Even now his fingers ached with memory, both sentimental and painful, of how diligently he worked at the behest of the Queen of Hearts. Was he mad before the mercury the vocation of millinery required or was it solely the devious and mischievous mercury that rendered him in such a state?

The day ended as every day did: Hatter, now properly dressed in his typical attire of dark denim and a plum button-up shirt topped by a charcoal wool waistcoat then navy velvet jacket. The final piece before he stepped from the tea shop, which also served as his domicile, is the top hat, the dimensions of the piece slightly and intentionally skewed. 

The cobblestone path led from the shop to the pub buried deep within the Wicked Woods, the journey was a long one but, because time bore little meaning in Wonderland, one that passed in very little time. Ribbons of russet and violet marked the sky as twilight softened the brightness of day. With each pace, Hatter gradually slipped into a marijuana daze, the mad man finding the path by memory and not be attentive. At the dark forest's edge, cobblestone ends and moss-covered earth begins, the embrace of the Wicked Wood's so tight that neither sun nor moonlight could seep through the thick tree-top canopy.  
━  
The straw-littered ground beneath Alice's boots transitions to wood planks, the new surface seeming to faintly undulate due to the wood's poor quality. Pausing in the entryway, the blonde's cobalt gaze falls to the floor, the surface seemingly meant to portray a meadow, the amber lighting affixed to the quickly constructed walls highlighting blades of grass. 

"Well, that's different," she muses aloud, words breaking an eerie silence now that the carnival's cacophony of voices and bells is suddenly, and oddly, absent. At every turn, Alice's reflection follows, as if her shadow now keeps pace with her, no longer content to follow. Midnight-tipped fingers trail over the glass, etched frames, and wood, the pattern repeating, this House of Mirrors unique in that the mirrors are decorative, not floor to ceiling sheets of reflective glass. Turning left, certain the path will continue what seems to be a hexagon, although Alice would have never have believed such when standing outside the space, she finds only the path dies, a six-foot-tall mirror marking its end. 

The object is unlike the others, the frame more ornately carved and seeming to call Alice closer. With each step, the verdant-hued wood floor beneath her seems to soften, as if the resistance offered is soil padded by grass. Arriving at the mirror, the only one that has a light affixed directly above it, the amber glow highlighting the rabbits carved along the oak frame, the blonde's gaze follows her delicate fingers as they ghost over three rabbits, the first simply sitting, the second darting, and the third leaping into what seems to be a rabbit hole, only the creature's backside visible. 

"This is the strangest mirror…" she whispers before her eyes widen, her fingertip seeming to slip into the glass, the material rippling beneath her finger's pad. Any other person might be alarmed by the event, but Alice simply repeats the act, the mirror swallowing the entirety of her hand before it is withdrawn again. "Holy hell…" she murmurs before repeating the act again, crimson-stained lips curling into a grin, one that vanishes when the wood floor behind her creaks, the beam of a security guard's flashlight bouncing from mirror to mirror. In the few seconds, the young woman's arm remains immersed in the mirror, a white-gloved hand, one more akin to a rabbit's foot than a human hand, wraps around her slender wrist and drags Alice through the glass.  
━  
The Looking Glass was nestled deep within the Wicked Woods, entry into the establishment garnered only by a secret password and equally secret handshake, both of which were meant to bar any of the Queen's minions from infiltrating the secret band of rebels. From the darkness, Hare appeared, the shock of white hair seeming to glow, although Hatter's mildly altered stated may contribute to this perspective.

"Hey, chap, ready to let off some steam?" Hare asked as a heavy hand clapped the hatter's shoulder, the gesture of friendship one that led the man to a snarl and a shove.

"Get the hell off me", Hatter growled, the foulness of his mood suddenly lifted as he smoothed the velvet jacket's lapel. "You're going to ruin my jacket, who knows what nastiness you've been touching." 

The Looking Glass held a plethora of intoxicants and bevy of beauties awaiting Hatter's attention, a smirk trailing after the thought as the pair began the final steps to its door. A distant flash of silver caught by the Mirror's window jerked the duo to a standstill. 

"What the hell…" the hatter mumbled before the pub's security team stepped from the shadows and the routine of password and handshake began.  
━  
The abyss into which Alice plunges periodically fragments with burning light as if shattered windows mark the tunnel that ends with the blonde collapsing onto knotted soil, tree roots marking the dirt. The impact jars the young woman, consciousness momentarily fleeing until she jerks awake, a white rabbit that is more humanoid than animal hovering over her, pink nose sniffing before it jumps back. Fear surges through her, the blonde scooting back before jumping to her feet, desperately searching for an escape path as midnight-tipped fingers claw at the tunnel's compacted dirt walls. Panic-infused cobalt eyes flash to the creature behind her but find only an actual rabbit, its coat pure as snow and whiskers twitching before it bounds away. 

𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 a voice whispers, Alice's brow pinching before she runs after the white rabbit. The tunnel marking the rabbit hole leads to another mirror, one that marks its end. "NO!" Alice screams, fists striking the glass, which spiderwebs beneath the impact and, again, the white-gloved hand wraps around her slender wrist and jerks her forward. In a flash of silver, the glass shatters and, momentarily, blinds Alice as she rolls across a forest floor, platinum locks collecting twigs and leaves and dirt smudging pale skin, before her now unconscious body halts.  
━  
The delivery of a chilled bottle of ale garnered a charming smile and a toast, 

"Death to the Queen!"

Hatter's theatrics drew a sharp glance from the barkeep as a hush fell over the customers grouped next to him. The bartender, a light-skinned beauty with raven plaits and ruby lips, offered a dismissive wave to guests worried the man's words were meant to draw forth sympathizers.

"Never mind him, loves. He's the mad hatter, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 mad hatter. Pay him no mind, the Queen does not."

The customers now comforted, Rose leaned across the bar to gently pat Hatter's smooth cheek.

"Your mouth is going to get you in trouble, love, you need to mind your tongue."

A ring-laden finger pointed to the still mildly nervous patrons, 

"Why should I care for what gets their knickers in a bunch?!" 

The hatter again drew attention and a sharp glance, any stern word the bartender might offer surely to be unheard as he slipped from the barstool. With ale wavering balance, the libation enough to quiet The Other's voice but too much to maintain steadiness, Hatter pivoted to study the room. Before he could offer the crowd a nonsensical lecture on treachery and the abolishment of free will, a burst of light penetrated glass, the silver glow that brightly and briefly shattered the darkness of the exterior world breaking. Stumbling towards the bar's entrance, Hatter sought his exit, the mystery held within that light too much to ignore. 

From the joint wedged between his lips, fragrant smoke veiled Hatter as he walked through the forest towards the flash of light. Although he 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 the beasts ᴮᴱᴬˢᵀᴵᴱˢ staring at him from dark hiding places, he paid no mind for a mystery was to be solved…a mystery he believed might prove to be of good fortune to him. 

"What now is this?" he questioned, eyes narrowed as he studied the apparently unconscious young woman several feet away. Hatter looked about, hat removed as he crouched next to the blonde. None too gently, he poked the woman's shoulder before he gripped her shoulder, pushing the woman that would soon alter his world onto her back. 

"Wake up", he ordered, nudging her again.  
━  
Gradually, Alice wakes, dark lashes lifting as kohl-lined cobalt eyes open, the dusty boots belonging to whoever towers above shift for the toe of one to nudge her side once more. Mumbling "touch me one more time and I'll cut off your balls," the blonde's midnight-tipped fingers curl into the forest floor as she pushes herself, rather shakily, to kneel before lifting her gaze to the man. A vulgarity falls from her tongue as the earth seems to tremble beneath her, and, as she gains balance, a hand slips to retrieve the knife tucked into her boot. As Alice stands, she conceals the weapon within her jacket sleeve before fully facing the stranger, her focus drawn to the joint held between his index finger and thumb, the air sweet from the exhaled smoke,

"Where the hell am I?"  
━  
"Aren't you a rude little creature", he commented before drawing on the joint once more. Wary of the blonde, her features so delicate she would appear as an angel if not for the black lining her eyes and impolite words she spouted. 

"What do you have there, poppet?" Hatter asked, spotting the knife she clutched. "Planning on stabbing someone?" 

The jest of the mad man's words concealed a genuine concern the woman before him may not be a visitor to Wonderland. 

ᶜᴼᵁᴸᴰ ᴵᵀ ᴮᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᵠᵁᴱᴱᴺ'ˢ ˢᴾᵞˀ

The Other asked as Hatter's hand slipped into his jacket pocket for fingertips to caress the switchblade contained therein. 

"Underland, poppet, you are in Underland and you better keep that knife handy to fight the beasties that lurk in the dark."  
━  
Alice nearly snorts at the man's reply, the term 'beasties' drawing to mind dark fairy tales whispered in the shadows of the blonde's disturbing childhood, as she tears her focus from him to search the dark forest surrounding them. 

"I suppose a witch that cooks children will pop out, too," she mumbles, Alice's cobalt eyes darting to the other before her hand does the same, midnight-tipped fingers snatching the joint, her lungs eagerly awaiting the smoke that will be a soothing balm to nerves ravaged by the experience of tumbling into this new world. 

As crimson-stained lips wrap around the joint's end, Alice stares at the man, certain his masculine beauty covers a madness, darkness she recognizes shadowing his bright and glazed eyes. The blonde's head tips back as she releases the smoke towards the inky sky, the moon visible only in pieces through the canopy of treetops. 

"If this place is so dangerous why are you wandering out here alone?" she inquires, returning the joint to the man, "or are you one of the 'beasties' I should worry about?"  
━  
"What a smart-mouthed little tart you are", he praised, the mad man's words tinged with admiration as he feigned a genteel smile that belied the tick-tock of a depraved mind calculating just what the Queen might pay for a pretty prize.

A single pace devoured the space separating them, the top hat perched precariously on the mad man's head swept free as he offered a slight bow before a ring laden hand seized the blonde's small one. Were the blonde familiar with his reputation, especially a recently acquired one that allowed the man to peacefully dwell within the cottage centered in a poppy field without the Queen's intrusion, she would run. Sadly, the hatter's new acquaintance was naïve to such and this lack of knowledge becomes fodder for a most devious haphazardly constructed plan. Before a single kiss was pressed against the young woman's knuckles, introductions were made and the moon highlighted the madness dancing within aegean eyes. 

"How rude, allow me to introduce myself, poppet. I am the Hatter and you are?"  
━  
In time, she will recall this scene as the moment the gradual descent into madness began, Alice and the Mad Hatter soon to fall into a twisted and addictive romance that maddens each when apart but instills sanity when together. The brush of his lips against her hand draws a soft giggle, the act a theatrical one as she resists the urge to snatch away her hand.

Alice smiles up at Hatter, her words sardonic, 

"What a gentleman you are! Prod me with your boot, warn me about monsters in the dark, and now greet me like a gentleman. You are a strange one, Hatter," she concludes before withdrawing her hand from his. Granting more space between them, the blonde surveys their surroundings, the glow of lights ahead giving some hope. 

"My name is Alice," she informs, her cobalt gaze focused on the source of the light as her pointed finger follows. "Is that the beastie hang out?" she asks, glancing at the other, "I bet you're the leader, eh, Hatter?"  
━  
ˢᵁᶜᴴ ᴬ ᴾᴿᴱᵀᵀᵞ ᴾᴱᵀ ˢᴴᴱ ᵂᴵᴸᴸ ᴹᴬᴷᴱ

The Other muttered as Hatter appraised the blonde with both hunger and curiosity before lips curled into a smirk at Alice's sharp retort. 

"An odd one indeed", he replied, "You truly have no idea how odd everyone that inhabits Wonderland is. Though, you look quite the unlady-like one, my dear." 

The inches the blonde set between them vanished as he moved closer then knelt to pluck free a dried leaf hooked into Alice's fishnet stocking, Hatter's gaze rising just as his hand did along the leg. 

"You are quite a mess, poppet", he advised before long fingers disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt to free a small twig from the stocking. The warmth the blonde radiated led Hatter's mind down a darker path, the male quite willingly entertaining the fantasy of the young woman tied to his bed and writhing beneath his touch. The mad man possessed a gift for sniffing out innocence and Alice, despite her demeanor, reeked of purity, one he would like to destroy. As he stood, the man's hands coasted over her hips before an arm hooked around her slender waist and she was tugged against his chest.

"Sweetheart", he cooed, "I'm the worst beast of all."  
━  
As the male steps closer, then kneels before her, the tiny voice of survival whispers to Alice, urging her to run from the one that already spins the web into which she will become ensnared. 

"So a crazy place full of crazies? My kind of place," the words stumble from her tongue and showcase the anticipation of his touch. The tremor that coats each syllable soon her body echoes, the slip of Hatter's fingers along her thighs, a dried leaf falling from his long digits, causing the blonde to gasp softly, crimson-stained lips immediately curling into a smirk to conceal the effect he has upon her. 

"Unladylike? Should I wear a skirt and bow in my hair, Hatter?" He continues to taunt her, the fingers that glide just beneath the hem of her skirt as he stands to cause her own midnight-tipped ones to curl tightly against her palm and cobalt eyes to break from his, Alice focusing on the dark forest around them. Despite her appearance, Alice is pure, the kohl-lined eyes, crimson-stained lips, and surliness merely a method to cloak the blonde's vulnerability, a suit of armor to protect her against the world's cruelty, the touch of which she suffered more years than not. Returning her focus to the man hovering too closely for comfort but not close enough for desire, Alice lifts her gaze to his and smirks, 

"Perhaps I am a beast-tamer."  
━  
"Perhaps you are", the hatter replied before fingers grazed Alice's jaw. 

"Or, perhaps, you are not the fierce creature you present yourself to be but a sweet girl that I will break", he whispered against her ear as the hand that now gently caressed her cheek lowered to wrap around her throat. 

ˢᵠᵁᴱᴱᶻᴱ

The Other urged fingers obeyed, and the pulse beneath Alice's fair skin began to hammer against his palm.

How adoringly the blonde gazed up at him, the sweetness of the girl beneath the mask radiating despite the clear intention of her appearance to appear otherwise, jaded and experienced when little Alice was anything but. 

"The Wicked Woods is too scary a place for a little lamb like you, poppet", Hatter murmured, the male's glazed aegean eyes now locked with Alice's gleaming cobalt ones. 

"Come, allow me to escort you to a safe haven."  
━  
As Hatter's fingers tighten around her throat, Alice gasps but, although her fingers tremble with the urge to pry free of his hold, she remains still. As the taunting words sound against her ear, the blonde's jaw tenses, a sharp retort dancing on her tongue but pausing when her new acquaintance's light eyes lock with her own. 

𝑹𝒖𝒏, 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆, 𝒓𝒖𝒏

In the days to come, the small voice of reason will chide the young woman for not heeding the warning, the man before Alice one that will most certainly lead the journey to madness…unless she leads him there first. Finally, the lingering retort sounds, Alice's crimson-stained lips shaping a small smirk as midnight-tipped fingers grasp Hatter's to tug his hand away. "Let me guess, the safe haven is 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 house…maybe even your bed."  
━  
Hatter feigned shock at the insinuation, his brow pinching as a soft huff sounded. 

"You expect me, a gentleman, to abandon an innocent creature such as yourself to the perils of the Wicked Woods? And to imply I would bed you in exchange for the sanctuary! Alice, you offend me with such words!" 

Before she can utter a stuttered apology, which he was almost certain she would, Hatter smiled calmly at her, 

"I am sure your tumble knocked the sense from you, otherwise why would you make such accusations?" 

Unbeknownst to Alice, the male's theatrics were a designed distraction to allow him to begin the journey through the dark forest. The deeper into the Wicked Woods they go, the more the bloodthirsty beasts appeared. Hatter paid no mind to the beasts, even as silver eyes glinted in the darkness around them. None dared to cross the duo's path, the mad man's reputation clear even amongst the beasts. Hatter extended his arm, a ring-laden finger pointing to the golden glow ahead. 

"My cottage where you will be safe." 

Safe from the Wicked Woods' beasts but certainly not safe from the Mad Hatter.  
━  
"Your cottage is in the depths of the woods you claim are haunted by 'beasties'" Alice's cobalt gaze drifts over the dark forest surrounding them, a soft but sharp gasp sounding when she spots the eeriness of luminous eyes within the shadows. Instinctively, she presses closer against Hatter's side, as if her new acquaintance will be her savior when he will only be her destruction, a fact with which Alice is still unaware. The dirt path yields to a cobblestone one, a creeping vine lacing the stones and creating a jagged section over which Alice trips, the blonde tumbling to the ground. An obscenity slips from her tongue when her knee dashes against cracked stone, fishnet stockings tearing, and crimson marking her pale skin. As Hatter's arms slip beneath Alice to draw her against his chest, the struggle to free herself begins and ends nearly in the same moment as she snaps, 

"Maybe you should care for the path leading to your home!" The blonde is unaware of how she ached until within his embrace, muscles strained by her tumultuous fall no longer straining to maintain an upright stance. The disorientation plaguing her senses, a state she prefers to attribute to the violent tumble into this strange land rather than Hatter's oddly intoxicating presence, now abates, the security of the other's arms offering stability to not only her physical balance but also rectifying her mental imbalance. Perhaps it is the latent survival instinct, an instinct honed by an ideal childhood subsequently savaged by loss and tormented by society's solution to the sudden, and unintentional, family abandonment, but the Voice whispers, 

𝑹𝒖𝒏

Again, however, Alice ignores it, curiosity devouring caution as each of Hatter's steps carries her closer to a most unique place of madness within this strange land.  
━  
Against the roof of his mouth Hatter's tongue clicked, the male immediately stooping to render Alice aid in reaching her feet once more. 

"Such a clumsy creature you are, Alice", he admonished, "But the fall must have knocked your senses asunder to trip over absolutely nothing." 

Adopting the knight-in-shining-armor façade again, Hatter bent enough for arms to slip beneath the blonde and cradle her against his chest. Should the young woman even offer any protest he would be unable to hear, the mad man lured into the web of lecherous fantasies and nefarious plans occupying his mind as he carried her to the cottage that may, should she misbehave, hold her doom. Within the hatter's drug-addled mind, the blood orange poppies that line the path once his property is reached still burn brightly even in the night's embrace. 

"I'll prepare you a spot of tea and biscuits", Hatter's focus dropped to Alice, the male nodding as if nourishment will heal what ails her. 

As they neared the cottage, the blood orange poppies swayed, as if the flowers are sentient beings greeting the mad man. 

"Should you choose a bath, I have a robe you may borrow while your clothes wash", he offered, the thought of the blonde naked beneath the noir-hued robe caused a smirk to dart across his features. He gestured to the poppies, a curt nod to the flowers as a knee lifted to brace Alice's weight so he might nudge open the iron gate marking his property's boundary. 

"I grow them for medicinal reasons", he revealed. 

ᵀᴼ ᴷᴱᴱᴾ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴬᴰᴺᴱˢˢ ᴬᵀ ᴮᴬᵞ

Carefully he set Alice on her feet, immediately taking her hand as he guided her to the cottage door. From the depths of Hatter's coat pocket appeared a key, one nearly the length of his hand and ornate in design. 

"Can never be too careful", he muttered as he released Alice's hand and slipped the key into the arched oak door with poppies carved into its frame. The mad man glanced back at Alice, "Come now, poppet." 

She really should run.  
━  
Always a curious creature, Alice ignores the now screeching voice of reason to follow Hatter into the stone cottage, cobalt eyes and midnight-tipped fingers lifting to sweep over the poppies cut into the door's frame. Clearly the man fixates on poppies, the blonde silently wondering if the obsession entails more than admiring the flower but admiring the narcotics contained within the plant. The cottage's interior is dimly lit, Alice squinting as she seeks adjustment to the lack of light and pausing to hover in the small foyer. 

"Do you live alone?" she asks, inching farther into the space even as Hatter moves from sight, "It seems small for two people…" Alice's words hang in the air, the cottage suddenly silent, not even her host's steps sounding. Courage mounts and she reaches the foyer's end, the length of the space seeming at odds with what she recalls of the cottage's exterior size. 

"Hatter?"  
━  
𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘏𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 the mad man's more rational side urged as ring-laden fingers trembled with the need to strangle the blonde lingering in the foyer. Hearing his guest's query, Hatter stepped from the kitchen to direct Alice to the armchair of plum velvet set before a stained glass window etched with a top hat. 

"Please, sit and I will prepare some tea", he urged before returning to the kitchen. Within the safety of the kitchen, Hatter carefully tapped a grey-hued powdery pebble of opium into the bowl of the marbled emerald and sapphire glass pipe retrieved from his jacket pocket. The need for opium to soothe the quivering of his nerves trumping the need to prepare tea, the cast iron stove cold with wood resting within its belly unlit. Realizing he failed to answer Alice's question, "Yes, I live alone", he called, his lips brushing against the pipe's stem before he drew upon it, the smoke sweetly scenting the kitchen as his greedy system devours the substance. Serenity caused him, for a moment, to forget the blonde within the parlor, as a soft smile tugged at his lips.  
━  
Drifting towards the plum velvet armchair, Alice murmurs a response to Hatter as a glass cabinet, one which should hold china, comes into her line of sight. The few lamps dotting the room reflect in the glass, granting a strangely ethereal glow to a case that contains a collection of knives, some with simple hilts and others with bejeweled ones. The blonde's lust for the pain to distract from her tortured soul draws her to the china cabinet, slender fingers curling against her palms as she tries to quell the desire, no, the need, for them to wrap around a glimmering blade and mark her pale skin with crimson. 

𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒑

The simple utterance, one heard only within her mind, triggers Alice to become still, as if the young woman is a marionette and the puppeteer jerked the strings. 

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚?

The puppeteer releases the hold and Alice moves forward, midnight-tipped fingers tracing over the glass as she peers into the cabinet, cobalt eyes widening as they fall onto an onyx-handled dagger, dark crimson dotting its blade. 

"Fuck…" she mumbles before backing away, Alice's gaze lifting as the glass captures the mad man's reflection.  
━  
"Aren't you the clever one, poppet?" Hatter murmured, now behind Alice, the opium pipe stem brushing aside platinum hair to expose the column of her throat, "admiring my collection." The mad man reached around her to release the cabinet's door, a quick turn of the key by ring-laden fingers freeing the blades he deeply cherished. 

"Would you like to touch one, Alice?" 

The question is exhaled against the shell of her ear, the opium pipe stem now arching over the blonde's shoulder en route to graze the delicate collar bone Hatter so would enjoy marking with a blade's edge. 

ᴺᴼᵂ 

The uttered command crashed through the hatter's twisted mind only a heartbeat before the opium pipe shattered on the ground, carelessly discarded, and his arm slipped around Alice's throat.  
━  
Fear courses through Alice, slender limbs trembling as Hatter closes the space between them, the genial expression he wore earlier now eclipsed by a predatory one. The half-turn she begins halts, not by her own choosing but by the arm that snakes around her neck, the hatter abruptly jerking her flush against his chest. The trace of fear now explodes, the blonde's hands striking at Hatter's arm, midnight-tipped nails desperately seeking purchase but slipping against the velvet sleeve. Seeking leverage to free herself, a fishnet-clad leg kicks for a boot to plant against the china cabinet, the glass fracturing beneath the lug sole's impact. She underestimates the mad man's strength, Alice's fierce effort only knocking their linked bodies back a few inches but provides enough of a distraction to the other to allow the blonde's nails to drag down his face before the space seems to undulate. The crook of Hatter's elbow seems to tighten against her airway, Alice's struggle for breath causing her to panic before she unwillingly surrenders to the lack of oxygen and falls limp within his hold.  
━  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, so rude Miss Alice", he chided as if the young woman were not unconscious and slumped within his hold. Within the kitchen, the tea kettle whistled, 

"Ah, tea time, poppet", Hatter murmured in return. Carefully, he placed Alice on the plush charcoal velvet sofa then tenderly brushed the disarray of platinum locks from her face. In only moments, he returned with two teacups, a bowl plentiful with sugar cubes, and a small pitcher of milk, all housed in ivory china painted with crimson poppies and balanced on a silver tray. Retracing his steps to the parlor where his captive guest awaited, elation filled the mad man as he centered the tray on a near table then perched on the sofa next to Alice.

"Ready for our tea party, Alice?" He paused, a frown creasing the hatter's brow as he studied the reclined blonde then muttered, "No, no, no. This will not due" before he knelt then drew her against his chest once more, striding towards the guest bedroom at the hall's end.  
━  
The whisper of cold air against Alice's pale features draws the blonde to consciousness just the wall parts and she finds herself, within Hatter's arms, teetering at the edge of darkness. Crimson-stained lips part as she gasps, midnight-tipped fingers curling, one hand against his jacket and the other against his face, nails dragging down the mad man's unshaven cheek in a struggle for freedom. Alice struggles in vain, attempts to flail her way to freedom thwarted by the male's steel grip even as blood marks his cheek. 

"Let me go, you fuckin' lunatic!" The blonde's demand, one that tears from her throat drenched in panic, seems to echo as if she already sinks into the darkness…until she realizes she does…Hatter continuing the descent to whatever hell awaits.  
━  
Despite the deep scratch that speckled Hatter's cheek in blood, the wound eliciting a hiss, he continued the descent into darkness. 

"Why. Must. You. Be. So. Inconsiderate, Alice?" 

The snarled question shattered the protests of his captive, the flip of a switch at the staircase's end granted a hint of illumination to the space, though Hatter could trace the path to the cell that will hold Alice even without sight. 

"You do not understand, poppet. The Queen /will/ discover your intrusion and will /not/ take kindly to it. The bitch is a tyrant and would love to rule your world as she does Underland." 

Shouldering a pewter lamp set on a panel of a brick wall, the dark space before the pair flooded with light as the cell door opens.

"I am saving you, dear Alice from almost certain death." 

The mad man's assertion was less for Alice and more for his saner self, the justification that the imprisonment of the blonde was for her benefit. He crossed the cell's threshold with aplomb, the trace of doubt vanquished by the whispering that 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 is the 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 proper course of action. Handling Alice as if a china doll that may break, he carefully set her on the small bed, the blonde's platinum locks and pale skin shocking against the blood orange duvet, yet another tribute to Hatter's beloved poppies.  
━  
The icy grip of terror seizes Alice, claws sinking into a heart that still, miraculously bears a flicker of hope that life is more than days plagued in berating thoughts and memories twisted by time. The sudden illumination of the small bedroom bound by iron bars is a shocking and strange reminder of the space she held sacred as a girl. 

"No, no, no…" 

The protests the blonde stutters fade to a whisper, fear claiming her voice as well as what strength remains from the violent crash from one world to another. Although the blood-orange duvet would never be bedding she would select, it reminds Alice of the polish her mother would wear in the summer months and a momentary sadness tinges the fear until the seed of survival instinct blooms again. 

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆

As if the cautionary advisement sounds beyond the confines of her mind, Alice nods, forcing her limbs to still when Hatter places her on the bed.

"Someone will come looking for me," she whispers before a husky laugh sounds, Alice laughing at the ridiculousness of her own statement. Kohl-lined cobalt eyes dart from the man partially bent over her to the open cell door before fear-produced adrenaline finally surges through her muscles and she lunges from the bed.  
━  
Perhaps Alice's greatest error was believing the hatter did not anticipate a bid for escape nor hope for one, the blonde's rush for freedom justifying the release of the frenzied madness bubbling within his veins. Hatter did not bother with verbal protests, he simply extended a ring-laden hand to curl around Alice's slender arm, the pale skin hidden by fabric bruising beneath his grip. 

"Again, poppet", he hissed, "Such insufferable 𝗿𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀!" 

The mad man's word escaped from between clenched teeth, his response a façade as he was quite overjoyed that Alice sought to escape. 

"Perhaps you were expelled from your world, Alice, for ill manners", he growled before wrenching the blonde from the cell's edge to fling her onto the bed, the frame only slightly shuddering beneath her weight. 

"Should I tie you up or will you behave?" Hatter inched towards the woman, "Or would you prefer to face the beasties in the darkness alone?"  
━  
The sheer force behind Hatter's grip shocks Alice, the intoxication that clings to the man seeming too much to allow for such adept and quick movement. For a moment, the need for escape does not recognize the other's need to capture, Alice only falling back when her captor does not move forward with her. Impacting against Hatter's chest forces his grip to loosen, Alice using the slight and sudden freedom to her advantage, Alice twists then jerks forward her arm, before pivoting and stomping on the mad man's foot. If the hatter issues a pained grunt, Alice is unaware, her focus solely on slipping through the cell opening and escaping the mad man's nuthouse. She does not bother shutting the cell, the moments it would take to ensure its security not ones she is willing to waste. Against the basement's walls, the thud of combat boots sound, first against the concrete floor and then the wood steps as Alice chases freedom. The hat stands that line the walls tease the blonde's imagination, taunting apparitions of metal soldiers ready to attack. An obscenity spills from pink-stained lips, the crimson now faded, upon the realization that the door is not, in fact, a traditional door. Panic causes Alice's midnight-tipped fingers to tremble as they race over the stairwell wall, the insufficient space marking the door's side not allowing for placement of a release. Now, a litany of vulgarities sound, cobalt eyes fixing to the bottom of the stair's as fingers skim the wall until, three inches from the seam where the stairwell wall and door wall meet, a button is found, the cool metal dragging Alice's focus from her wary watch for the hatter.  
━  
The blonde's escape merely thrilled Hatter, Alice freeing herself from his hold justifying the mad man's belief that rudeness should be met with punishment. 

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭

The Voice of Reason and Sanity slipped through the dark desires dwelling within Hatter's mind, perverted and nefarious intentions that grew each second he stalked after Alice. Lunging up the stairs, the smirk that occupied the male's lips vanished, replaced by lips pressed thinly in determination. 

"Alice. Alice. Alice", the mad man chanted the blonde's name, tone absent affect as he trudged up each step. The smirk returned when glazed eyes tracked her hand, the corners of Hatter's lips drawing upward when his delicate prisoner fumbled for the release that would allow at least an opportunity for flight. 

"Shall we take this chase into the woods, Alice? See who gets you first? Me or the beasties?" 

Hatter lurched forward, his hand brushing aside Alice's small one for a finger to depress the latch that will release the door, the mad man offering the blonde a game that will determine their future.  
━  
The sudden forward surge of her captor causes Alice to freeze as she struggles to process his words.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆

Not a single moment passes in further internal debate, Alice bouncing on the balls of her feet as the light slips through the ever-widening seam of the opening door. The second the space is enough for the blonde to slide through, she does, Hatter left lingering on the dimly lit stairs behind her. Combat boots squeak against the wood floor, Alice struggling to recall the avenue that will offer escape but finding it easily within the small stone cottage. The horror of the basement is now forgotten as she races through the parlor, the china cabinet boasting a knife collection entering her peripheral vision and triggering a shiver to course beneath pale skin. Alice skids around the corner that leads to the short hall and freedom, a terrible thought jolting through her mind. 

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅?

The relief that floods Alice, midnight-tipped fingers firmly clasping the doorknob, when the door opens with ease nearly drops the girl, a choked sob held captive as she lunges across the threshold and down the cobblestone path towards the dark forest. Before plunging into the terrifying woods, yellow eyes glowing within the shadows, she pauses. At the edge of the wrought iron fence encircling the Hatter's cottage rests what must be an older fence, a broken piece of metal catching the blonde's eye. Shooting a glance at the cottage, Alice determines the few seconds needed to fracture the rusted iron rod will be well spent; after several well-placed stomps, the piece breaks, Alice capturing it with trembling fingers then plunging into the woods.  
━  
"Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock." 

The rhythmic tapping of ring laden fingers against the door frame accompanied each word, Hatter eager to begin the game.

"Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock." 

With each word, the smirk that brewed beneath tightly pressed lips gradually appeared until it grew into a maniacal smile that would generate compliments from Cheshire. A third and final countdown began, the conclusion as if a bell dinging to signal the start of the chase, Hatter lunging through the doorway to sharply turn. Stalking of the blonde did not begin with a hurried pace; instead, the mad man crossed the hall with a casual pace, the china cabinet his focus. 

He opted for simplicity, a dagger with gleaming blade and noir hilt, thin straps of leather crisscrossing the handle, and offering a firm grip. Only when the weapon was in hand did a thrush of excitement explode, once casual steps now hurried. Hatter did not bother securing the domicile, the wish to offer Alice a safe hiding place a fervent one. Now, it is the newcomer's name he chanted, Hatter's deep voice growing louder with each syllable that sounded until it became a roar. 

"ALICE!"  
━  
Beneath wine-hued combat boots, the pebbles spattering the forest floor crunch, the fracturing of twigs and snap of thin branches, punctuated by the thundering of Alice's heart, the soundtrack of her escape. As the dark forest slowly swallows Alice, the beasts…

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆 

…slip from the dark and dank caverns buried within the forest's darkness, claws digging at earth as they slink within the shadows, lusting for the prey's flesh. As the wind roars her name, terror, for only a fleeting moment, steals Alice's volition, stripping her muscles of energy and she freezes. Pivoting in the direction from which the mad man comes, platinum tresses tangled with leaves whip around delicate features. 

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉

Kohl-lined cobalt eyes are watchful and wary as Alice stills her breath…Thud.Thud.Thud.The lost girl's heartbeat is heavy within her ears, echoing so loudly it deafens all ambient noise. At the darkness' edge, silver glimmers…

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉

…Alice stumbles backward, the slip of rocks beneath boots marking the threshold of a severe descent that triggers the blonde to plunge back into a ravine.  
━  
Once, before The Other's arrival, Hatter possessed another name and less malevolent nature. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 man would be alarmed by 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 man's actions. Appalled. Bewildered. Disgusted. Now, as an oddly retreating scream broke a quiet dominated by the pitter-patter of tiny feet and the thud-thud-thud of the beasties of which the blonde was warned.

ᵂᴱ ᴰᴵᴰ ᵂᴬᴿᴺ ᴴᴱᴿ˒ ᴮᵁᵀ…ᴵᶠ ˢᴴᴱ ᴿᵁᴺˢ ᵀᴼ ᵀᴴᴱ ᵠᵁᴱᴱᴺ…

The realization that the Normal 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 visit, 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 visit, 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 visit the Queen of Hearts was more than the Mad Hatter could bear not for fear of the bloody Queen but for worry the intrusion in 𝗵𝗶𝘀 affairs would end 𝗵𝗶𝘀 business.

"Right you are, chap", he muttered before the hunt 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 began. 

With blind eyes, Hatter would know every nook and cranny of the Wicked Woods and now, without need to watch each step, he ran after the suddenly vanished Alice.

He found her at a ravine's bottom, battered by the fall but not beaten, which only more pronounced his worry.

"This how you're unwinding?"

The bellowed words hooked around Hatter's neck and forced him to stop, the mad man whirling to face Hare.

"I don't have time or want to explain", he growled, "So help or don't. No matter to me."

Hare remained silent but followed his friend down a rocky path to the ravine's bottom where the blonde laid. As always, and always against his better judgment, Hare shadowed Hatter in action and thought, but offered a quiet apology to the stranger to Underland. 

Knelt next to Alice, Hatter caressed the blonde's lacerated cheek and painted his knuckles in blood.

"Alice, we really could have enjoyed a lovely tea party had you behaved."

**Author's Note:**

> The story is a compilation of my interactions with another writer on Twitter and is posted with his permission.


End file.
